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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472666">Waking Up In Vegas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian'>hanthelibrarian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Bachelor Party, Bill and Mike get drunk in Vegas, Drag queen Richie, Drinking, M/M, Song: Waking Up in Vegas (Katy Perry), These boys gay, Vegas marriage, commission, drunken marriage, strip club</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:42:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Richie and Eddie's joint bachelor party and Bill should be having fun but all he can think about is how lonely he is and how handsome his friend is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Minor or Background Relationship(s), background Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Waking Up In Vegas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturated/gifts">saturated</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a commission from a dear friend:</p>
<p>"I'm imagining bike drunk in Vegas and then they get married and it ends in the morning when they wake up like a perfectly cut 'oh shit'"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richie’s bachelor party was probably the biggest function Bill had been to in over a year. Well, it’s not really </span>
  <em>
    <span>Richie’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> bachelor party; it’s his and his fiance’s. When your childhood best friend turns into your high school sweetheart, a joint bachelor party is the likely outcome. Not that Bill was complaining; free alcohol, courtesy of Richie’s big break in New York writing and acting for SNL, great food, and even better company. Their whole group had shown up, nearly all of them paired off with each other in various ways. Did it sting to see Bev, his ex-high school sweetheart, doing body-shots off of her new boyfriend Ben? Yes. Mostly because Ben was also his friend so it meant that he had to see both of them being happy twice as much as he normally would have. He wasn’t jealous, per se, but he was envious. He and Bev had never looked at each other like that…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he was getting sidetracked. The night wasn’t about his lovelife (or lack thereof) but rather about celebrating the love and friendship of Eddie and Richie. If that meant watching his childhood best friend Stan grind on his pregnant wife in the corner while he nursed his third tequila sunrise, he’d just have to deal with it. At least he wasn’t the only single person there. Mike had joined their group later in life; where most of them had met in elementary school, they had all met Mike their freshman year of high school. Didn’t make a difference, really. All that he had missed out on were some silly memories they liked to look back on but once he joined, they created plenty more silly memories. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bill glanced around the room, trying to find the man occupying his thoughts. Richie and Eddie had both allowed them to bring plus ones to both the bachelor party and to the wedding; neither of them had. For Bill, his last girlfriend had left him for some Hollywood exec about 4 months before the party and there was no way he would bring a Tinder date to something so important. For Mike… Bill didn’t know. He and Mike were close but never quite as close as they should be, seeing as how they had similar interests, similar careers, and were both living in the same city. It struck Bill as odd but he brushed it off, just like he brushed off the stripper that Richie had sent his way an hour ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, thanks,” he had mumbled as the man, wearing only the thinnest of thongs, approached him. He still slid a twenty into the man’s hand to thank him for his time. He may not have wanted a dance but he was in a strip club, goddammit, and he needed to pay to be there. The man had looked too much like Mike and that had caused his gut to flip-flop for a reason that Bill couldn’t quite understand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The venue wasn’t Eddie’s idea, far from it actually, but everyone knew that in that relationship, what Richie wants, Richie gets. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now if only Richie would want a partner for me, that would be just wonderful,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bill thought to himself as he shakily stood up from the chair he had been occupying for the past hour.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wandering around the club, doing his best to dodge strippers so he didn’t waste their time, Bill tried to think of some way to get out of spending the rest of the night at the club. Yes, he was Eddie’s best man and yes, he had booked this place for the party but that didn’t mean he wanted to stay and watch everyone else be happy and in love. As he rounded the bar, he bumped into someone, nearly spilling his almost empty drink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” the voice above him said. He instantly recognized it as Mike’s although it was a bit rougher than what he was used to. “I had a few too… few too many and now I can’t see straight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tall man was dressed in clothing that was so tight that it left little to the imagination and oh god, was Bill’s imagination running wild at the sight of him. Drunk Bill was not a good friend; drunk Bill was handsy with his friends, very forthcoming with compliments, and basically someone who should not be around someone else without Eddie there to control him. But Eddie was practically miles away, getting lap dance lessons from a stripper as Richie watched, salivating at the sight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mike!” Bill’s voice squeaked a little. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Mike, I was wondering where you were.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gesturing at the bar, Mike gave a weak smile. “It kind of sucks to be the only single guy in a friend group at a bachelor party so I, uh, went into hiding.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Only single friend… </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Mikey,” Bill began but then stopped. Hadn’t he told them all that Audra had left him? Maybe Mike hadn’t gotten the memo. He placed a hand on Mike’s firm shoulder (</span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking firm, goddamn that’s not fair, he’s so hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>). “It’s not just you, pal. Audra left me months ago.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them stood there, looking at everything except each other. When their eyes happened to meet after the first 30 seconds , they each let out a shy laugh. There’s no reason this should be awkward for either of them and yet…</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanna grab another drink and sit at my table? It’s got a good view of the floor without being directly up a stripper’s ass.” Bill grinned and raised his empty glass. It’d be nice to spend the rest of the night chatting with Mike; they hadn’t had any time earlier in the week to talk about everything each other had been doing since the last Losers hangout six months prior, despite sharing a hotel room for the party.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smile that spread across Mike’s face at Bill’s offer told him that his friend felt the same way. As they both sidled up to the bar, smiles on their faces and cash in hand, they chatted about simple things, things that wouldn’t be upsetting to miss in the uproar that swirled around them. To Bill, this easy conversation wasn’t focused on the content of what they said but simply that they said it. Knowing that he could still have such an easy conversation with a friend without feeling like he was holding them back, keeping them away from someone else was refreshing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Back at Bill’s table that had miraculously stayed empty despite his absence, they were able to talk more and this time the conversation wasn’t meaningless chitchat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My advisor for my thesis is making me want to scream!” Mike took a swig from whatever fruity drink he had ordered as Bill rambled on. “I mean, who cares if Ayn Rand influenced some asshole from bumfuck nowhere? I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to discuss her or her writing in my thesis! Yes, the theme is ‘modern influences on contemporary literature’ but good god, the woman drives me mad!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chuckling, Mike leaned closer to Bill, the scent of peach on his breath as he struggled between laughs to say, “I’ve got that beat. My advisor tried to sleep with me so I wouldn’t blab about their falsified records.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bill’s eyes went wide and he couldn’t help himself from leaning in. In his drunken state, he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the feeling of Mike’s breath on his skin, the scent of peach permeating through all of his senses, that drew him closer. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Mike told his story, leaning closer and closer as his tale reached its climax, Bill found himself tossing back the last of his drink and getting even closer. This was dangerous territory, he knew that. He had recently come out to the group as bisexual, a fact that apparently everyone but himself had known. Mike knew this and Bill knew Mike was gay. The way that Bill was looking at Mike now, his pupils most likely dilated, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his eyelids heavy, he was sure that he was crossing a line and that he would be caught, reprimanded, and embarrassed. But then Mike looked at him, really looked at him with those big brown eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul, and, despite the sloshing of alcohol in his stomach, Bill could tell that Mike was looking at him just as he was looking at Mike; with desire and want and need and only some of it sexual. There was something lying under the surface of those amber-flecked eyes that hinted at loneliness and maybe Bill was just the person to alleviate that loneliness, if only for a night. He was about to say something, anything that might take them away from there, back to their hotel, back to the room that they shared but then Richie walked by them, frowning at their empty glasses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now why are two of my favorite men sitting here looking all lonesome with no drinks to keep them company?” The groom-to-be was eyeing them up as he walked past, putting his best drag queen swagger into his walk. When Richie drank, Lady Gag Gag came out in every step he took and every line he spoke. He couldn’t help it; she was a part of his very being. At that moment, however, Bill wasn’t appreciating her appearance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Huffing, Bill sat back in his chair and signaled for one of the servers to come over. “If Richie wants us blasted,” he said to a very flushed, very ‘deer caught in the headlights’ Mike, “then blasted is what we’ll get.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mike was quiet as Bill ordered shots for each of them, enough shots to put either of them under the table. As they waited for the server to return with their drinks, Bill noticed that Mike was still quiet. Too quiet. He looked… contemplative. Almost as if he were mulling over some big decision he had to make. Before Bill could ask him what was wrong, the server returned and Mike’s hand shot out, grabbing two of the shot glasses. He winked at Bill, a shaky and uncertain wink, before downing them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re two behind now, Denbrough,” he said with a devious glint to his eye. “Might wanna catch up before the groom-to-be makes another pass.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that was how Mike and Bill ended up in some corner of the strip club, minds nearly gone from alcohol, making out like teenagers at an after prom party. They had had way too many shots and the server probably should have stopped serving them but, well, it was a bachelor party; getting nearly blackout wasted was part of the fun. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bill gasped into Mike’s mouth, an idea springing to mind that would solve all of their problems. It was probably the most genius idea he had ever had, in his opinion, and he tried to scramble together the words needed to say it but then Mike squeezed his waist and his mind went blank. It took him another five minutes to recollect his thoughts, Mike’s wandering hands and lips distracting him until he finally broke free.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mike, Mike, Mike,” he chanted, trying to loosen himself from the man’s grip. “Hold up, hold- hold up, man.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mike pulled back, lips pouting at the loss of contact. Bill pressed a finger none too gently against those lips to quiet him before he could even begin to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should-” he giggled, a fact that he would vehemently deny later as a grown man, in his opinion, did not giggle. “We should get </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A burst of laughter broke from Mike’s mouth, the puffs of hot air against Bill’s finger sending shivers down his arm and his spine. “You’re not, not serious, are you? Married? We don’t even, I mean, we aren’t…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mike trailed off, his eyes going distant. Bill leaned up on his toes to kiss the look off of his friend’s face. They needed to focus if they were going to do this. But focusing was so hard when Mike was right there and so hot and they were so drunk, so incredibly drunk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re one of my best friends, Mikey. I love you.” As soon as Bill said it, he realized that he really did. He loved Mike. Maybe even romantically. He’d have to think about that later when he was sober enough to think for more than two consecutive seconds. But for now… “Think about, just- just think. I’m lonely. You’re lonely. If we get married, we legally </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be lonely, right? Like, I think it’s against- like, against the </span>
  <em>
    <span>law</span>
  </em>
  <span> for married people to be lonely. So if we’re married, we won’t be lonely anymore!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mike looked at him for a moment then another and then another. Bill was about to just go back to kissing him because kissing him was quite nice when Mike decided to finally respond.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That,” he said, pulling Bill closer and leaning down until their foreheads rested against each other, “is the best idea you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> had.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was quick and easy from there. They filled out the marriage license application online, went to the nearest chapel, paid the seventy-five dollar fee, and readied themselves to walk down the aisle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re my best friend,” Mike murmured into Bill’s ear as he hugged him from behind as they waited their turn. “I love you, love you like Richie loves Eddie and I shouldn’t tell you that but I’m drunk and you’re drunk and I-I guess I just wanted you to know that I do. I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bill was too gone to understand everything that Mike was saying but he leaned back into the hug, his face warm from the alcohol and the excitement from being held again. It didn’t hurt that it was Mike; he loved Mike in so many ways and to share this with him was going to be amazing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bill and Mike?” the receptionist called out, smiling tiredly when the two walked up to the desk with drunken grins on their faces. “It’s your turn. Congratulations.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mike took Bill’s hand and tugged him in for a kiss, short and sweet. “Let’s go, future Mr. Hanlon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Walking down the aisle, Bill found himself wishing that their friends were there. Well, all but Stan because Stan would stop them. Once Stan found out about this? They were going to be in so much trouble but it would be so worth it. Once they were married, they’d never be lonely again and that would be wonderful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the officiant conducted the ceremony and then prompted the two to kiss to ‘seal the deal’, as the man dressed as Elvis said, all Bill could think about is how handsome Mike looked in the pink and gold lighting. Up on his tiptoes, Bill kissed his new husband. The kiss was different from all the others they had shared that night. This one felt real, felt true. This one felt like destiny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hours later, Bill sat up from where he was tangled in bedsheets and a warm body, holding his head and groaning. It was barely dawn yet the room was well-lit enough for him to make eye contact with the man beside him, now also awake.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mike looked right at him and whispered something that Bill had been screaming in his head for the last few moments:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck did we do last night?”</span>
</p>
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